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Dealing with death is part of life…
On June the 13th 1975 I was asleep in my flat, it was 11pm and suddenly the door bell rang, it was a horrible sounding bell and I had been meaning to change it but never got around to it. I woke with a start, I wasn’t expecting anyone.
I jumped out of bed and entered the corridor, “who is it” I said through the door. It’s the police came the answer. I opened the door and two police officers stood there, a young lady and a tall male. My heart was racing I just knew something bad was about to unfold.
“Are your Courtney Wilding” the lady police officer asked. “Yes” I answered “What’s going on” My heart felt like it was going to rip out of my chest. “May we come in” “Yes of course” they entered the hall way. “It’s your father; he has been involved in an accident. He was taken to hospital but we’re sorry to tell you he died before arriving” I went cold.
Even today 35 years later I still go cold if I relive that moment, like right now. My head went into tail spin “no no no” was all I could think, I couldn’t think.
I quickly got dressed and left the flat, the police wanted to take me to my mother, about 4 miles away. I said no and I ran and ran and ran and ran, finally arriving at the street… and devastation.
My father at age 49 was out for a walk on June the 13th 1975, he was crossing a main road near his home and was mown down by a speeding out of control car.
He never regained consciousness. He was gone. Just gone
Two days before I was with him and mum at home, I popped in to see them as I lived in a flat (didn’t call them apartments in them days) but liked to see them often. We had a laugh and I told them about the latest Monty Python sketch from the TV as I loved it. They thought it was stupid and silly but they enjoyed my take on it.
I never saw my father again after that visit. I never said what I wanted to say. I never had the chance. It was over, finished, gone, final, the end and it was brutal. It was a moment from hell for me, my three young sisters and mother, it plunged us into mind spinning chaos, disarray, fear, remorse and utter gut wrenching grief. That moment changed everything. It’s etched deep inside me.
He was a gentle man, a skilled craftsman, a diligent loyal worker, a decent man, a good father and provider. He never once raised a hand to any of us and yet ruled with a rod of iron. He was a social person and ran local committees, and as a young man he was a really good football player and later an expert gardener. He had a keen sense of irony with a charming smile. He loved his first car, it was a pale blue Mark 1 Ford Cortina and later as he entered his 40s he changed to an Austin Cambridge with a chrome stripe. He only ever had those two cars.
I often think about what he would make of us today. All four of his us have ‘done ok’ I often wonder what he would have made of his seven grandchildren and now his four great grandchildren.
That moment in my life changed me forever; I had three young sisters to protect and lead and a mother who had never worked. I developed a deep sense of loyalty, empathy and care and I understood, through pain how death can affect those left to deal with it.
Today my family look back and remember him fondly, we sometimes reminisce about him. I miss him and wish he was here, but no longer in a sad way, that’s passed now, no, more in a happy way. I often say to myself “OK dad what would you have made of this” he never answers but I feel sometimes it’s worth asking.
What I am saying is you never get over the death of someone close, but you do begin to come to terms with it and over time your feelings and thinking change from anger, rage, why and grief to acceptance and understanding.
However hard it might appear, only think fond memories, any other type will not help you and are futile. Trust me I know.
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Thank you.
Hi,thanks for the great quality of your blog, each time i come here, i m amazed.
Hello Russ
It is as it was and I appreciate your comment. CLW
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that’s incredible.